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life is a highway

I dropped Old Blue off for inspection the other night, and I was very nervous about the whole situation for some reason.  I felt like a mom taking her child to the first day of school.  Completely ridiculous, I know.  I have a flair for the dramatic.  But evidently she impressed all of the mechanics with her peppy gas pedal and highly enthusiastic air conditioning system because she passed with flying colors.  And she was safe in the dark, rainy parking lot overnight.  That may or may not be beacuse I left her with strict instructions not to fraternize with the pickup trucks and the tough looking Toyota that was parked next to her.  Just kidding about that last part actually.  It was the Mazda I told her to avoid.

Old Blue and I had a close call Thursday morning.  I was driving to an appointment at the hospital, in the right lane, minding my own business.  Suddenly, the woman in the car next to me just came right on into my lane like she belonged there.  Luckily I didn't blink at that very moment, or glance at the Dunkin Donuts I was driving past and wistfully daydream that I was in heaven having a warm sausage egg and cheese biscuit, because if I had, I would be telling a very different story tonight.  But as I told my mom, thanks to my cat-like reflexes and superior honking skills, Old Blue and I were unscathed.  Although, if there had been an accident, at least I was about three blocks from the hospital.  Silver lining.

Speaking of cars, the other night I rode in Phil's.  As a general rule I try to avoid doing that, but Wednesday night I had to.  I was on the hunt for a new laptop and he was coming along to advise because my knowledge of computer technicalities falls somewhere in the area of not a whole lot.  As we walked out of the house to embark on The Great Laptop Search of Oh Ten, I nonchalantly offered, "Oh Phil, I'll drive."  He was having none of that and insisted on driving.  Apparently he had no idea the impressive display of defensive driving I would be demonstrating the next morning.  If he had known that was coming my way he just might have let me be the pilot last night.  But since he is not able to see into the future, he drove. We got out at the first store and as we were walking in, I thought I felt like my pants were wet.  After some discreet inspection I determined that yes, they were indeed wet.  Not just damp.  Wet.  Dangerously close to soaked.

"Hey, Phil, any chance that maybe that seat in your car could have possibly been a tiny bit wet?" I asked.

His response? "Oh you know what?  I think it was!"

Since it hasn't rained here in days, I could not imagine what it was that made his seat so wet.  And to be honest, I probably didn't want to imagine what it was.  So I spent the rest of the laptop search with wet pants.  Although Phil did have a beach towel in his trunk that I was able to sit on.  He keeps it with him at all times, because hello, he spent his fair share of years in a blue button down shirt and yellow kerchief.  Once a boy scout, always a boy scout.  Or something.  And, clearly he has had more than a little experience dealing with mysteriously wet seats.  I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing, but hey, at least he's always prepared.  Boy Scouts everywhere would be so proud.

Comments

Mallory said…
I'd be a little scared to find out what made that seat so wet if I were you. Boys can be dangerous like that. :)
Erin said…
My very first day of clinicals I rode with one of my girlfriends back from the hospital...come to find out her seat was wet....and dirty...and I had on white pants...it was not a pretty sight :) Haha!

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